


The Word of Your Body

by idoltina



Series: Nightminds [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:20:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7909777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina/pseuds/idoltina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few days into their honeymoon, Regina wakes in the middle of the night to find Robin in severe pain from his recent injuries.</p><p>----</p><p>November 15, 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Word of Your Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [odangoatama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/odangoatama/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wildfire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461915) by [idoltina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idoltina/pseuds/idoltina). 



> **Warnings:** adult language, nudity, references to previous temporary paralysis, sexual situations, transference of physical pain

It’s not the gasp of pain that wakes her up, nor is it the awkward, jerking spasms of his body. It’s a primal _pull_ deep within her chest, a pang right at the center that shoots down into the corners of her lungs and forces air into them. She’s halfway through the inhale to steady herself from the surprise of it when her eyes snap open, and Regina blinks rapidly, trying to orient herself to a different dark.

Sound settles before sight for her, and this time it’s not a gasp of pain but a choked off sob coming from behind her. Again, she feels a pull in her chest, ache weighing her heart down, and she’s half turning over before she can so much as make out any sort of shadows in the moonlight. “Robin,” she murmurs, tongue thick and tacky with sleep. She gets no affirming response, just another pained sound coming from his direction as she finishes turning toward his side of the bed, and it takes her a minute too long to realize that he’s too consumed by his pain to hear her. Blearily, Regina props herself up on an elbow and reaches out a hand for him, fingertips brushing gently against the bare skin of his back. “Robin --”

The rest of her soothing words are lost as he vocalizes his protest against the pain -- a sharp, high-pitched cry that breaks open into something more desperate. That’s all it takes to jolt her into enough of an awareness to close the gap between them. “Honey,” she whispers, hand hovering over his skin as she presses a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Residuals back?” He doesn’t quite manage a full _yes_ , but the slight nod of his head tells her all she needs to know. “Let me help,” she insists, pressing her palm against the small of his back. He gasps sharply, body jerking away from her a little involuntarily, but she stays with him, curls in close and watches him closely as the moonlight throws his features into clarity.

It’s his spine this time, she thinks, must be that sharp, searing pain that shoots up and down each notch of vertebrae. These nights have been the worst of the rounds of residuals he’s been experiencing since the initial injury. There are nights when it’s his neck, instead, or a tingling, prickling pain or cramping of muscles all up and down his legs. Those nights aren’t _better_ , exactly, but they’re preferable to this. These nights when his spine reverberates with the echoes of that pain -- that stark, thudding _crack_ against the thick trunk of a tree -- are the nights that linger with him too long into the following day.

They’re on their honeymoon; she doesn’t want this pain to linger any longer than it already has.

She murmurs soothing sounds into his ear, soft and quiet and gentle as she moves her hand up and down his spine, fingers pressing firmly against the spots where she can tell he’s hurting the most. She’d thought this was mostly over by now; he hasn’t had an episode in over two weeks. His strides have been easier, more steady and sure, his posture less affected. He’s slept soundly at night, had spun her in dizzying circles at the reception and has spent the last few nights snapping his hips against hers time and time again in desperate, matrimonial joy. This -- this jarring, painful disruption of his sleep -- wasn’t supposed to happen anymore, and in her leadened lethargy, Regina finds that she feels a little out of practice in taking his pain from him. She feels… clumsy, her movements awkward and her magic bending at odd angles in comparison to what she remembers doing a couple of weeks ago, and it’s _silly_ because --

“ _Fuck_!” Robin shouts, half-crying as his body jerks and spasms again. Regina starts away from him with a gasp, hands recoiling as she tries to assess what she’s done wrong. He curls away from her (not away from her, never away from her, always against the pain), back bowing, and her eyes drift down to where his legs have gone tense, muscles clenched tight as he kicks out slightly in fits. She’s _moved it_ , fuck, she’s never done that before, has never managed to be so clumsy or careless in her healing comfort, but _none_ of that matters right now, not with the way Robin is shaking and trembling next to her.

 _No_.

It’s always the same -- that anxious, intuitive _no_ that claws its way up and out of her core in defense of someone she loves -- and Regina lets it guide her with ease now. She’s back against him in an instant, one hand pressed firmly against the small of his back as her other grips his hip _tight_ , and her magic is all instinct as she pushes it forward, a bright balm that permeates every pore. He jerks a little against her, clearly startled and still in pain, but he’s running on instinct now, too, knows and trusts in what she can do to help the healing process and take some of that pain away. He leans and arches back into her touch, half-spooning against her, and it’s less than a moment later when he finally lets out the first sound of relief -- a guttural groan that accompanies the rush of air from his lungs.

That’s all she hears before she pays the price of the fierce ferocity of her magic. The fractured edges of his pain ride the current of her magic up out of his body and into hers before she’s really ready for it. She’s still too focused on channeling her magic into him, the vision of it in her mind a narrow tunnel without escape, and the pain travels up and back, concentrated and singular in its direction. It shoots straight to the bottom of her spine and slams into her sciatic nerve, setting every last ending on _fire_ in a way that takes her right back to the dawn of spring. Her eyes snap shut of their own accord and she is, quite suddenly, back in that hospital bed fighting against her daughter’s early arrival into the world, poison a pain unlike any she’d ever experienced before and no, no, _no_. This is autumn and she is healthy and whole, their daughter safe in the care of their family and Blue is gone, gone, _gone_ \--

The residual pain she’s absorbing from him vibrates around her nerve, trying her resolve, and it takes everything in her not to cry out. She sinks her teeth into his shoulder in sheer desperation; her hands are shaking against him but still she won’t let go. Slowly, she feels his muscles start to relax under her touch, each easing of muscle registering as a creeping, crawling pain that has her curling her toes into the sheets and exhaling heavily against his skin.

“Regina,” he breathes, soft and slow, and he leans back into her, hand fumbling blindly to find her. _Regina_ again, the whisper of a murmur as she releases her bite on his shoulder and slides the hand on his back up above their heads. _Regina_ once more, and his fingers find hers at last, weaving together until their rings make contact. _Regina_ to the last, and she releases her grip on his hip in favor of curling her arm all the way around him, her chest pressed firmly against his back.

The pain burns into her blood and begins to dissipate at last, and it’s with eyes still closed that she presses her lips to his ear once more. “ _I’m here_ ,” she murmurs, exhaling slowly. “Robin, I’m right here.”

The pull against her chest centers and settles, and together, their souls manage to find sleep again.


End file.
